Sleeping Beauty
by SpellbodySpinner
Summary: AU reimagining of a classic fairytale recast with the characters we love. Something isn't right and Hermione has little choice but to flee her royal home, but is she running into something far worse? She'd heard stories of the witch, Maleficent, horned queen of the north but it is up to the princess to decide who is the true villain of her own story. Eventual Minerva/Hermione
1. Chapter 1

"You promise?" Harry stared into her eyes, knowing that he wouldn't be able to lie if he did.

"Hermione, I promise, that as soon as I can, I will come after you. I will come and find you." A sigh of relief escaped the young woman's mouth as she launched herself at her best friend.

Harry was the best tracker in the kingdom, or in any other she had heard of. He had never been set the task of finding someone and not succeeded. He held her just as firmly back, smiling into her curly, chestnut hair, appreciating the warmth of her hug. It would be the last one he felt for a while.

He pulled back. "Are you ready to go?" A glance around her bedroom confirmed that everything looked exactly as it should. It wouldn't do for it to look as if she'd run away; her father would never forgive such an act of disloyalty, should he ever find them. Harry didn't dare think about what would happen to Hermione should their plan fail. Of course, he would be put to the noose, but the punishment for treason was probably far worse in her case.

"According to Umbridge, Father wishes me to be moved back into the palace the night before my 18th birthday so that I can be wed the following day. My time has run out, Harry. Once I am married there will be no more opportunities. I will be kept under lock and key and shall die the same death as my Aunt Eleanor."

"I can't believe that. He married your aunt, and now she's dead he's marrying you." They shared a grimace.

"She couldn't bear him an heir... and he's not exactly young. Time was running out."

"It was quite lucky for him your Aunt died then."

"Harry, I doubt luck had anything to do with it." Hermione stared into the green eyes of her best friend, willing him to understand the severity of her situation. Realisation shone in them, and she was relieved to finally share the burden she had been carrying alone for the last few weeks. "He is not a good man, Harry; not even remotely. He has charmed the kingdom into loving him, worshipping him even, when really all he is.. is a great big snake, poisoning all that stands in his way."

"Surely the King..."

"My Father does not see beyond the end of his nose. Since Mother's passing, power is what makes him happy. And the union of our Kingdom to Phillip's will make our province the largest in this land. Unrivalled power. No other Kingdoms would willingly oppose us."

"You'd make an amazing Queen one day."

"Even if that's what I wanted, apart from on the chessboard, Queens count for nought. It wouldn't matter my view, only that of my husband's." The princess reached out and took Harry's hand. "We're going to live somewhere far from here. Where our pasts won't find us, and we'll be happy to live our lives as we chose to, not as they are planned for us."

"In that case..." Harry looked out of the window and up at the silver moon. "Time is running short. The stable hand will be back on guard soon, and he is sure to notice the Kings stallion is tacked up ready."

"His prized stallion?!"

"My lady asked for a speedy getaway. I have delivered." Hermione smiled at the thought of her father's face in the morning when he found that not only his daughter but his horse had been 'stolen' away in the night. Sadly, she knew he'd be more upset about the horse.

Leaning forward, Hermione pulled his head down and kissed him lightly on the forehead. "Stay safe." she whispered a single tear falling from thick, dark lashes.

"You two, Princess."

"How nice it will be, to never hear the name Princess Aurora again."

"Your middle name sounds so much more like you. Aurora sounds like someone else, someone different." He took a moment to admire her very authentic looking disguise. She wore peasant shirt and tunic, trousers tucked into her leather boots. It was even stained to look as if she had been labouring in the fields all week long. He was sure with her hood pulled on tightly, even he would not recognise her in a crowd.

"I was never the princess my Father hoped I'd be."

The look of shame in her eyes broke the young man's heart. "But you were the daughter your Mother always wanted. You're so clever, and strong, and…" He paused momentarily, not wanting to make her head swell. "You'd better get going."

"And what?"

"And brilliant. Now go, I have someone else to see before the morning."

"That wouldn't be the baker's daughter would it?" A mischievous grin covered her lovely features. "The red-haired maiden who has captured you so completely?" Harry blushed slightly but continued his fast pace to the door.

"I can feel it in my bones. She will be my wife one day."

"And I shall be best man." Hermione smiled playfully.

"Well, you are my best friend, and I'm sure you'll be hers too once you meet her, but now is not the time. You need to go." One last glance was what they got before the pair exited; one turning left towards the south wing, and the other right, to the north courtyard where her horse was ready waiting.


	2. Chapter 2

A jet of hot air warmed the back of Hermione's neck. Turning slowly to look into a set of large jewel-like eyes, she smiled gently. This horse was one of the biggest on the yard. His coat was a dark bay, mane and tail black as night. He had no socks, but one thin, white strip which ended just before his top lip.

"Oh, how handsome you have become." She remembered when he'd been a foal, all legs and no confidence. She had sympathised with him almost immediately. His mother was a racing horse, bred for speed and had cost her father more than any horse he'd ever bought. His sire was a well-built war horse, braver and stronger than any other horse ridden into battle. He had lived long for a warhorse, though he was dead now. That was a lot to live up to; standards already set for the tiny foal and in the beginning, many didn't think he'd be anything very special at all; that the mix had somehow produced a dud foal. How wrong they had been. "You ready? You look ready."

Harry had done just as she'd said. The stallion was not dressed in the finery he was usually paraded around in. If they were to go undetected once they'd left the castle, he needed to look like any other horse. Hard to do when wearing tack put together by the King's saddler. He stood wearing a battered old saddle, and basic bridle. "We're walking to the gate. No noise okay? Once we're over the bridge you can stretch your legs." A spark shone in both sets of dark eyes at the thought. Hermione had yet to ride this horse, and he was used to carrying fully grown men in armour. She could only imagine what speeds he would make with her in the saddle.

They walked in near silence. She thanked her lucky stars that Harry had had the foresight to remove his shoes. The sound of those on the stone roads of the city would have sent guards running in moments. They stuck to the back roads until they had no choice but to leave through the central gate. It opened onto a wooden bridge. This was when the princess mounted.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione heard something move behind her. It may have been the crack of some animal standing on a fallen branch, but she felt an ice cold shiver run down her spine. Beneath her, she could feel her horse's breathing start to quicken, it too sensing something was not quite right. Trusting its instincts as well as her own, Hermione lowered herself towards the saddle, taking a lighter seat on the horse's back before kicking him onwards. Soon all she could hear was the drumming of his hooves on the forest floor.

Her hands tightened slightly on the reins as the trees grew denser, darkness engulfing them, even though it was the middle of the day. They had been riding for hours and though she knew this horse was very capable of carrying on, she could hear the sound of running water, and they both could do with a drink.

Dismounting with a curse, her legs numb from a day in the saddle, she wandered forwards, slipping the reins over her steed's head and leading him along behind her. Every now and again he would snatch at grass, but she didn't mind. He'd more than earned it.

"We shall have to change your name, my darling." The horse didn't look up. He hadn't chosen his name and so he didn't care so much. "Phaeton Impassario is much too... Royal. You're going to need a much planer name." At this, the horse did look up. Though he didn't like the name, it did mean 'the shining one' so he had heard the red-headed stable boy say sometimes. "You'll still be as shining and glorious as Phaeton, horse of the goddess Aurora," It did make her laugh. He Father hadn't known of any connection with her name and the name of his horse, but after finding out about it in a mythology book she had not shut up about it for weeks. "you just need something a little more... normal... Maybe, Neville?" she said it noncommittally as if it was just another word in the sentence. The horse looked up from the grass at her before returning to satisfy its belly. "Neville it is. And you can't call me Aurora anymore, okay?" She smiled to herself. She knew the poor animal had no idea what she was saying, but she would have sworn when he looked up, it was a look of utter bewilderment. He was a horse, he wouldn't be calling her anything. "We should find some water and then move on."

Pulling off her hat and hood, allowing long, chestnut hair to fall about her face, she tugged on his reins and coaxed her reluctant friend to follow her. They walked a good 20 minutes, the forest seeming to have no end; it continued just as dense and lush as they walked onward. A trickling sound peaked Neville's interest and so he pulled his mistress to the left, where the sound was coming from.

"We should go straight or we'll get lost." Regardless of her reasoning, he began walking towards the sound, ignoring the much weaker resistance at the end of his reins. "Neville!... Phaeton! Stop!" he took no notice, his disobedience rewarded at the end of the track where a bend gave way to a small valley, at the bottom of which was a stream.

"Oh." Hermione looked down at the running water, realising just how thirsty she was. "Sorry." She took a breath. "How do we get down?" she wasn't really asking the horse, but it felt better to talk to someone than to feel she was doing this alone. She had never done anything like this before, ever.

Looking up and down the ledge on which they stood, she saw a slightly less steep slope where she might be able to make it down and back up again. Neville wouldn't make it though. "I'll go down and fill my flask, then bring it back up." she looked down at her flask and up and the very large horse. "I'll make a few journeys."

While down at the stream Hermione drank her fill. The water was clean, crisp and fresh. She splashed some on her face and moved her hair aside to cool her neck as well. Looking up the valley she could see Neville waiting patiently. She squashed her flyaway hair back beneath her hood and replaced her hat. Filling her leather flask as full as she could, Hermione set on the treacherous route back up the slope. A slope that had been much easier to get down than to go up.


	4. Chapter 4

Twice the young woman slipped and had had to start again. She frustratedly swore that on her next trip down, she would make sure to tie a vine or something to make it easier. The water was poured into a dip in the ground and her horse drank gratefully. He was about to finish off the entire puddle when his sensitive ears swivelled, pinpointing a sound from within the forest. He stood up tall, alert.

"What is it?" Hermione cooed, having not heard anything. She reached out to touch his muscular neck, but the horse snorted loudly, taking a step back towards the ledge. "Hey, it's alright, sshhh." After another loud snort, the whites of Neville's eyes becoming prominent, signifying that something was definitely wrong and though she couldn't see anything, this was nothing if not a brave horse. They needed to leave before whatever it was he was afraid of had them trapped. Mounting in silence, she pushed him forward but he wouldn't go.

"Walk on." She asked a little more fiercely this time. He took a step or two but stopped dead again. The chill in the air that she had accounted to the wind was becoming so strong she could see her own breath. For the first time, Hermione heard something moving in amongst the trees. Someone was talking in a low hiss, their voice steadily growing more audible as she listened.

"Horse for dinner, peasant boy for dessert." A large pair of red eyes shone menacingly from behind the treeline. Hermione could feel the horse beneath her change, growing somehow. His neck rounded, head lowered, stance changing from flight to fight. "I don't think so, Neville. Not today." Turning her horse to face the ledge she desperately looked for somewhere they might escape. She saw nothing, only heard the creature advance, its heavy feet cracking tree roots as it advanced.

Now the creature was out of the tree line, Hermione could see it properly for the first time. She had studied mythology closely in her lessons with Professor Flitwick back at home. She thanked him for his thoroughness as she knew exactly what that thing was.

"Stay back Wendigo. I am of noble blood and should you spill it, an army of soldiers will be upon you."

"Ah, the boy is not a boy, but a young lady." It was evident the creature had already feasted today. Its pointed teeth were still stained with fresh blood. "Make sure to scream as loud as you can." The man-like beast crouched as if preparing to pounce. "It always did excite me. Even when I was Human." Its white skin was so bright in the sun Hermione had to consciously prevent herself from squinting.

Feeling his rider panic, once again Neville decided it was his turn to take the lead. He hadn't particularly wanted to engage in a fight he wouldn't win, but his sire's blood was in him too. Both his sire and dam were well known amongst horses for their skill and bravery and he refused to die so young, having accomplished nothing special. What was this creature but a human with a taste for the flesh of its own kind. He could kill it, but if there was another way, he would take that option. Hopping onto his back feet in a small rear aimed to get his young lady to hold on, he picked up canter down the edge of the valley.

Hermione let out a scream as her horse seemed to take matters into his own hooves. Looking over her shoulder she saw the wendigo begin to run behind them, snapping its jaws like a rabid dog, to her horror catching up. Neville seemed to be slowing down; they were running out of track. His canter was slowing with every stride and Hermione didn't understand why until the angle of the direction began to alter too. "Wait... No! DON'T!"

He was slowing down to get enough power beneath his hind to jump. He was going to jump the valley. The Wendigo was upon them and Hermione was almost thrown off when Neville bucked in an attempt to deter their pursuer. She heard one hoof connect and looked back to see whether it had been enough. Though the creature had only lost a few strides before it was chasing again, the young woman felt some satisfaction that the blood now covering its face was its own. As Hermione was busy watching their assailant, she didn't notice that the edge of the ravine arrive. Neville bunched his hindquarters, powering both him and his rider from the ledge. The shock change in motion cause Hermione to let out another scream, a scream that continued as the wendigo also took the jump.

Waiting to meet her death, the princess crouched low to Neville and closed her eyes. The jump was too big; he couldn't make it. Well, they were going to die but at least it would not be at the claws of the Wendigo, which were known for making the deaths of their victims excruciatingly slow.

Her eyes burst open at the sound of hoof landing on rock. Instantly happiness shot through her, but it vanished again as Neville's hind quarters scrambled at the edge of the slope, fighting with all he had to push them both safely onto the other side. Rolling from the saddle, Hermione was on land. Running forward she took the reins and heaved with all her might. Just as Neville managed to get one of his hind legs onto stable ground, the wendigo landed too, its razor claws making grappling holes into Neville's back just behind where Hermione had been sitting.

The pain was blinding. Neville knew nothing of the ledge, of his human, or what it was on his back. He knew only the pain and exactly what he needed to do to get away from it. The horse launched upwards, with a power nobody, including himself, would have believed he had. On landing, the Wendigo was subject to a ride unlike any other. Hermione had never seen a horse bronk like it. He was off the ground, rearing, bucking, spinning. It took a mere 8 seconds of this treatment to cause the Wendigo to lose its grip and fall. It hit the ground, rolling only once to its left; but once was enough and the wendigo fell.

There was a moment of celebration. She moved to Neville's side, patting him in an attempt to calm him down. As she made to lead him further from the ravine, she heard a sound.

"Help me! Please." Hermione walked slowly forward and looked over. Holding onto a root that jutted out from the steep drop was a man. He had long blonde hair and wore torn robes. "Please help me!" Hermione's mouth fell open. She recognised that man.

"Lucius Malfoy? You're dead, you died in the wars years back!"

"I'm slipping!" She looked about for something she could lower for him to take hold of. Her eyes fell on a length of vine. She pulled it from the tree and ran back, beginning to lower it to the helpless man. The hoofmark on his head made her stop. After Neville's valiant efforts to save both their lives she felt ashamed at her own stupidity.

"You are the wendigo. You tried to kill us." Their eyes connected for a moment and icy blue turned back to red. He leapt for the vine, not realising it wasn't attached to anything. Hermione looked away as the man fell to his death, letting out a beastly roar as he fell.

Swallowing back the bile in her mouth, Hermione returned to Neville and took hold of his reins. "Let's go." She turned to lead him somewhere she could look at his wounds. She was greeted with spear tips.

"You are trespassing, boy."

Brown eyes closed with an almighty sigh. "You've got to be kidding me."


	5. Chapter 5

It was so loud; the sound of her body crashing against the cold marble. On either side of her, two guards stood, each with a spear pointed threateningly close to her shoulders. Under their breath, Hermione could hear the soldiers daring her to move. It seemed from their threats that they too, assumed due to her dress that she was a boy; much the same as the wendigo had. She knew better than to correct them at this stage. They weren't going to listen to her, and speaking would no doubt get her into more trouble.

Up above, cold, pale green eyes watched the scene with little interest. After a few minutes of complete stillness, the witch, or so Hermione had heard she was, sat forward in her high backed throne, her trusty raven enjoying the view from his perch at her left hand.

Maleficent was not someone that her father would readily speak about. Hermione knew he feared this woman above anyone else and did what he could to keep her happy, in her northern castle, far away from his kingdom or his people. He tried to stay on her good side and the witch kept to herself. In fact, Hermione had never seen the witch before but had heard stories of a green-skinned monster, capable of death and destruction, devoid of morals and the bringer of evil. Taking shooting glances where she could, that was not how Hermione would have described what sat before her.

This 'monster' looked very much like a woman. Her skin was indeed a shade of emerald green, her frame was thin and even sitting down, Hermione could tell the woman was tall. She was clad in black from head to toe, but besides her skin, her most defining feature was the pair of huge black horns that protruded from her head.

"And what was it, young man, that possessed you to enter into my forest without consent?" Her northern accent punctuated each consonant in an intimidating but oddly soothing manner.

Hermione said nothing; she had lost her words, something that had never happened before. Despite her frantic inner monologue, on the outside, she remained perfectly still on the marble tile. This apparent act of rudeness didn't please the guards, one of which jabbed the princess hard in the upper back, pain causing a short gasp to escape previously locked lips.

"All those who wish to pass through my woodlands must first pay the tax."

"I didn't know. I have money." This was the first time the witch heard the peasants speak. She sat up a little straighter, a frown knitting on her brow at the decidedly female sounding voice. Why would a female wear attire such as this? _They are running away._ With the question seemingly answered, she gave a small sigh.

"Well, It does one well to be informed." With an elegant wave of the hand, the witch signalled for the guards to move and in unison, they forcefully took Hermione by the arms. "I suggest that next time, should there have been a next time, you would do better to be a little less disrespectful. Firstly, you do not speak when spoken to, then you plead ignorance to a law that has been in place for at least a decade, and finally, you don't bother to remove your hood in my presence." Spitefully, one of the men grabbed at her hat, snatching it from Hermione's head. For the first time, the young woman looked up into the face of her father's oldest enemy.

"Guards, on your knees." The confused men looked from one to the other, not understanding. "ON YOUR KNEES!" the witch roared, fear forcing all four to drop to the ground, still cowering from her words. "We are in the presence of royalty. Princess Aurora, what brings you to my humble home."

"Your guards, Your Excellency." The princess bowed her head, but barely. Hermione's shoulder was still hurting from the sharp jab of the spear and though she doubted it had drawn much blood, she would not show more than she needed to in the ways of etiquette.

"Ah. Well, how lovely it is to have a guest of nobility."

"Actually, your excellency, I find myself under binding time constraints and would rather..."

"It was not a request, Princess" The witch raised a sharp eyebrow as her tone turned steely. Hermione felt rather than heard the guards standing from behind her. This time, however, they didn't dare take hold of her as they had before.

"So I am not a guest, but a prisoner."

"You may call it what you will." Thin lips curled into a smile, the tone was almost playful. The whole situation was very reminiscent of the times she'd had to stop Crookshanks toying with mice. There was something very feline in the glee she could just about detect under this otherwise steely exterior. The horned woman's expression returned to neutral, and Hermione noted a stoic but eerie beauty about her. Who was she? What was she? Hermione remained silent despite her growing curiosity. "Guards, see the Princess to the south wing."

The two remaining pairs of eyes watched them leave, and pale green turned to look at purest black.

"Well, Severus." The raven clicked his sharp beak and shuffled his silky black feathers impatiently. "What a predicament." the birds head bobbed in agreement. The witch shook her head slowly. "So much for living out a quiet life, I fear this will force us out of retirement." There was a moment's pause before the woman rose slowly from her chair and began to descend the stairs towards the entrance hall. "In the grand scheme of things, this situation has certainly worked to our advantage. The girl was running away. Even if she hadn't ended up here, this is the first place they would look." She stopped again, turning back to face her throne, her hand still perched nonchalantly on the arm. "You will head to the southern province, and let me know as soon as she is discovered. I need to know how many will march to our gates, and what weapons they possess. I will prepare our defences." The bird stared, unmoving. "Of course I will be returning the Princess to her rightful place, but it's worth being evenly matched for the bartering." A toothy grin spread across her face, erupting into a laugh at the black bird's bemused headshake. "He won't be getting his precious daughter back for free."


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione stopped for a moment as she was walked past a large window overlooking the castle courtyard. Outside, she could see Neville being led in by a group of soldiers… Well, the men were trying their best. At every opportunity, her big and powerful horse would take very accurate shots at anyone within range of his back legs. He didn't miss once. A small smile spread across her face as she was forced to walk on. It faltered, a helpless feeling taking hold; she hoped they wouldn't harm him. She hoped they both would be alright in the end.

Neville called again for his rider, his shrill whiney painfully penetrating all eardrums in the near vicinity.

"Can nobody shut this ruddy beast up?" An old hunched man wheezed to anyone that might be listening.

A dark-skinned soldier replied. "We've called Hagrid. He should be along in a few minutes, Argus."

Filch chuckled quietly to himself. "Then it'll be sorry."

Neville had been confident he was on top of the situation until he felt booming footsteps vibrating through the ground and up his hooves. His eyes grew wide in shock as a gigantic human with an expanse of bristly black hair on both his head and chin jogged over.

"Sorry Kingsley, I tried ta get 'ere quick as I could. Been sortin' out the nesting pen for Maleficent over on the south side."

"That's alright Hagrid." The soldier smiled at his old friend, handing over the feisty horse before it got another chance to bite him. "This one's a bit of a handful."

"Alright, I'll take him from here." The half-giant smiled, first at Kingsley, then at the new arrival who was causing so much trouble. Patting him lightly on the neck, Hagrid spoke in a much softer, less demanding voice than the previous men had. "Now why don' ya come along you, I'll have a stall made up fer ya in no time. An how's about a big bowl o' oats? They'll make a nice distraction while we sort out those wounds you got there, eh."

Suspiciously, Neville looked around one last time for his princess.

"And I'm sure yer mam will be out to see ya soon." Neville gave a grudging snort. _She's not my 'mam'._ He sent one last look towards the castle gate. _But I hope she's alright_. Seeing nobody but the rude soldiers who had so roughly taken her away, the steed lowered his head a little and followed the half-giant to the stable yard.

Huge brown eyes looked around his new abode. It wasn't half bad. On arriving, the huge man had tied him up, removed his tack and washed him off. It had surprised him how attentive and gentle the man was, especially when treating the wounds on his back. Even with his clumsy-looking hands, he hadn't hurt the horse once. After being left to dry in the sun, Hagrid untied him and led the horse to his stall. The straw bed was thick and there was a bucket of fresh, cool water. The water had taken Neville's attention straight away, so much so that he didn't notice the Hagrid man leave.

There were no other horses currently in the stable block, but an open door opposite allowed an unobstructed view of an obviously slept on straw bed. This eased his worry of being alone. Horses are herd animals, and being on his own reminded Neville of how the beginning of his life had been when he had been taken away from his mother and he had learned what it was to be lonely. So unbearably lonely. He had never seen her again. He wondered how long he would have to wait to meet his bunkmate. Hopefully not long.

Neville was used to a yard of twenty and didn't like the thought of being on his own. He also wanted to know where he was… Such a strange place, where giant men roamed free and princesses did not.

A bright light shone into his eyes, waking him. Usually, he would have turned his back to it and continued to sleep, but this was a new place and curiosity caused the horse to make its way forward, to put his head over the door. He could hear Hagrid's voice echo through the now open barn.

"Well, I wondered where you'd gotten to!" He didn't sound angry. "I've put you a feed down, and there's a new friend in there for ya." To his amazement, an untethered horse entered the barn, Hagrid following behind. His nose told him that this was a mare, but Neville was unable to think, instead, he was mesmerized by the shining white of her coat, her long, silvery mane and tail. She paid him no attention as she walked past, hooves clicking across the stone cobbled floor.

"I didn't quite catch your name lad, but this here is your company." At this, the mare did finally look at him and Neville knew that he had never seen anything so beautiful, concluding that this was because nothing ever could be. "Her name's Luna."

Luna turned into her stall and looked over her door at Hagrid, whinnying lightly to him before moving to her feed. "Goodnight you two." And the barn doors were shut again, enclosing them inside.

Neville watched the little part of her back and withers that were still visible over the wall of her stable and waited patiently for Luna to finish. He was rewarded a few minutes later, as she moved straight to her door, looking over it at him inquisitively.

"Hello."

Neville breathed out slowly. Her voice was so soft, almost musical. He was sure if he hadn't been watching her, he might have missed it.

"Hello..."

"Luna," As if he had forgotten her name in that short space of time. As if he could ever forget her name.

"Luna." Neville repeated.

"Yes, do you have a name?"

He hesitated, not knowing which of his names she would prefer. Deciding to wait until he knew her a little better, Neville quietly answered. "Well, I'm between names at the moment."

"Humans, they are intriguing creatures aren't they?" She didn't ask the question to him but looked at the door wistfully for a moment. "Well goodnight, I have been on quite a journey today, and my sire always said when you're tired, you're more susceptible to wrackspurts."

Neville had no idea what those were but bobbed his head in agreement. "Is your Father here too?"

"No. He left to find our heard but never came back. I'm sure he will return eventually."

"How long ago did he leave?" Neville's curiosity was peaked, he had never met a horse so mysterious.

"Three years ago? There were rumours that the unicorn had returned to forest. He went to find my mother."

"You're part Unicorn?!"

She let out a long yawn "Goodnight."


End file.
